


When Supernovas Collide

by llaras



Series: The Clooney Chronicles [1]
Category: Actor RPF, American Idol RPF
Genre: Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llaras/pseuds/llaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, gosh. Adam. George. Sex. Kris is there too, but not in the sex. Maybe next time? :-D</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Supernovas Collide

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely and awesome [](http://sparky77.livejournal.com/profile)[**sparky77**](http://sparky77.livejournal.com/). First of all, because she said she'd [ pay a million billion dollars for someone to write this pairing.](http://sparky77.livejournal.com/605328.html) And secondly, because I love her. Also? I could not get the idea out of my head for _days_ and finally just had to write the damn thing. I just stayed up all night and wrote this in one sitting, no beta, but it's not scary, promise. Handcuffs for Q, Adam POV for C lou. Approx 3400 words.

Twenty more minutes, Adam decides as he watches the crowd. People have already started to leave, drifting out in twos and threes, the ones without drivers wait just inside while their ridiculously expensive cars are fetched. Adam sighs, glad for a respite after hours of nonsensical chatter. He's claimed a nice patch of wall away from everyone and can finally relax a bit and breathe. As much as one can breathe in the tight-ass red leather pants he's wearing. They were a good choice, because he looks _amazing_ in them, but he's ready to get back to the hotel and get into something more comfortable at this point.

It's been a really bizarre evening all around. This isn't the usual industry shindig that he and Kris normally get invited to. But their attendance there tonight was a special request from Simon and he's not someone Adam or Kris feel right about saying no to. However, besides Simon and Ryan making a brief appearance earlier, there doesn't seem to be anyone there from the music side of the business. When they first arrived Kris had taken one look at the people surrounding them and blanched. "It's like the fucking Oscars exploded in here, man," he had whispered to Adam. Adam had nodded, already forming his game plan for the evening. Lots of smiling, be himself, always make eye contact, no more than two drinks. Acting wasn't something he was pursuing right then, but it wouldn't hurt to make some new friends. New _powerful_ friends.

And it had all gone well, really, despite the fact that no one seemed interested in talking about anything to do with the movie business. It was all about the Lakers and Iran and who had how many fucking Twitter followers or whatever. But he had still gotten a few business cards and phone numbers tucked into the pockets of his new black suit jacket. Newest. One could never have too many fabulous jackets. His fingers curled around the slips of paper and he smiled. He also had some great new stories to share with Kris. It had become something of a joke between them how often Adam got groped at these things and he loved loved _loved_ shocking Kris with the whos and wheres and whats of some of his crazier-ass encounters. Susan Sarandon? Totally expected. But Tim Robbins? Even he didn't see _that_ coming.

Kris is currently in the midst of a small group of celebs, nodding gamely along with whatever they are talking about, and it only takes about fifteen seconds of Adam staring at him before he looks up. Adam tilts his head toward the doors, questioning. Kris' eyes get real big and he circumspectly makes pointing gestures at the man standing next to him. Bruce Willis. Adam laughs and nods. He can wait. He settles back against the wall and fidgets with one of his new silver bracelets.

"Yours?"

Adam is slow to look up. "Hmmm?" he asks.

"Is he yours?" And that _voice_ is so fucking familiar, yet Adam still does a double-take when he realizes that George Clooney is standing next to him. He's looking at Adam curiously, a highball raised to his lips. Adam can smell scotch.

"What?" Adam has zero clue what the hell George is talking about. Mr. Clooney. George fucking Clooney.

George gestures towards Kris. He's very careful to enunciate every word. "Is. He. Yours."

Adam nearly chokes on a laugh. "Oh my god, no. He's unbelievably straight. And married. Trust me."

But George is still watching Kris. "Hmmmm," is all he says.

Adam tries to see Kris through the eyes of a stranger. Is there something there that he's missed? But no, he's still the same guy he's always been - friendly to a fault, sweet, charming, modest and sadly, completely straight. Adam sighs in disappointment and looks back, meeting George's frank gaze. "Though I think his wife would be up for a threesome, she's been giving me these _looks_ lately, you know?"

George smiles and nods. "I know about those looks, yes." And they both kind of chuckle for a moment before going quiet.

They stand in companionable silence for a minute or two until Adam suddenly realizes that he never introduced himself. He feels like an idiot, but he pushes away from the wall and holds out his hand. "I'm Adam, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"George. And the pleasure is all mine." George's smile is bright as they shake hands. He doesn't let go right away, lets their fingers slide slowly against each other. His hands are big and inexplicably soft. Adam tries not to react. Tries, but he must have given something away, because George's smile has changed from friendly and interested to what could almost be called predatory. Adam knows that look, though usually he's the one wearing it. It's a challenge.

"You have plans after this?" Apparently George is cutting right to the chase. And now Adam has to decide if he wants to be chased.

"Not really." He attempts a nonchalant shrug as he looks around the room. Tries for bored.

George looks around too and shakes his glass. The ice cubes rattle. He tips his head back just enough to reveal his throat as he swallows the last of his drink. Adam can't look away and he knows George knows this. The whole thing is ridiculous.

"Wanna have plans?" He really doesn't beat around the bush. Adam admires that. "Looks like the party is wrapping up."

"I don't know." And Adam really is unsure, strangely. It's one thing to flirt with a genuine goddamn movie star, but it's another thing entirely to get naked with one. Sure, he's heard the rumors about Clooney, who hasn't. Especially in the crowd he normally runs with. That little bitch Jerry _swore on his life_ that George had blown him once in the dressing room of some shop in Beverly Hills, but no one _believed_ him. They've been teasing him about it for _years_. "You're not really my type," he says consideringly. He gives George a once over, not realizing that he licks his lips as he does so.

George leans in, his mouth right next to Adam's ear. His voice is soft and amused. "You're not really mine, either. But I'm intrigued and thinking maybe that I should be a little more, hmmm." He pauses. "Adventurous." He pulls away and Adam swears to god that his eyes are fucking _twinkling_.

Adam gives up. They're going on tour in like, two weeks, and he may as well get some kicks in before the grind of back-to-back concerts takes its toll. Besides, this story is going to be _awesome_. "Your place?" he asks. "Mine is being sub-let right now. Or we could go to my hotel room?"

George grins. "Let's make it easier on all involved and say my place. I just need to say my goodbyes and shoo them out the doors."

And that's when Adam realizes that he's been at a party thrown by George Clooney _all night_ and had no fucking idea. Inwardly he kicks himself. "Let me just, I'll let my friend know what's going on."

George nods and points at a staircase across from where they are standing. "Second floor, go all the way down the hall to the last door. I'll be up in about fifteen minutes." They exchange another smile as they part ways and Adam lets out a breath he didn't know he was even holding. Jesus, what is he _doing_?

And apparently Kris is wondering that too after Adam advises him that he's not going back to the hotel. He looks around, puzzled. "What? What's going on?"

"Hey, listen. I'm just going to stay here for awhile and um." Adam scratches the side of his neck, at war with wanting to crow about what he's about to do, and on the other hand, not wanting to freak out his friend. He looks around, desperate to find the right words and his gaze settles on George. Who gives him a little smile and big thumbs-up.

"No way!" Kris grabs onto Adam's arm. "No way! You are not staying here and fucking George Clooney!"

Adam pretends to be taken aback. "Jesus, Kris. Language. L.A. is changing you. I'm disappointed."

"You asshole." Kris is mad. "What about Drake?" He actually crosses his arms and gives Adam the stink-eye. It's adorable.

"Oh, he'd say 'go for it'. And he'll be the first to get details, for sure."

Kris snorts and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You're crazy. I can't believe you. George fucking Clooney."

"You know, I said the same exact thing." They grin at each other.

 

 

It's more like a half hour, but Adam uses the time to his advantage. He undresses quickly, folding his clothes and removing most of his jewelry. He doesn't want distractions. He's half hard already, just thinking about what's going to happen, and the silky slide of the black robe he dons doesn't help. The cool fabric is startling against his cock and he shivers in anticipation. He can smell George all around him and it makes him impatient, but he resists the temptation to touch himself, wants to wait for the main event.

He noses around in the bathroom cabinet while he waits. It's a bad habit, but he's always curious to see what products others use. And he finds lube and condoms on the second shelf. Adam rarely bottoms, but he has a feeling that the same could be said of George and he really isn't in the mood for a power play. Besides, it's been ages since he's been fucked and the idea of going to rehearsal the next day still feeling that delicious burn makes him squirm a little in delight.

Despite the fact that it's been awhile, it doesn't take him long to prepare himself and he's just gotten settled on the huge bed, lube and condom near-to-hand, when the door to the bedroom opens slowly. George is looking down as he enters, kicking off his shoes and socks. He looks up and stops. Stares.

Adam knows he looks good. His pale skin and black hair against the dark blue coverlet, the robe not concealing his nakedness at all, just another backdrop. The bedside lamps dimmed just enough. He planned it that way. He slowly strokes himself.

"Well, hello," George says. His voice has gone deeper and his eyes go greedy. He steps over to the bed and settles on the edge, just within touching distance. But he doesn't touch. Instead he _looks_ , his eyes hot and hungry. He's slow and careful in his appraisal and Adam feels like even the few parts of him that are covered still get seen somehow. It's thrilling, and he curls his toes in anticipation. _Such_ a good decision, this.

George clears his throat. "Freckles. Interesting. And you're a natural blond? Redhead?"

Adam tries for a casual tone. "Hey, underneath the make-up and the fantastic clothes, I'm just the boy next door."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm really not."

George makes this crazy growling noise as he climbs up on the bed and his mouth is on Adam's just like that. It's openmouthed from the get-go, aggressive and hard. This isn't about turning someone on, they are already there. This is all about knowing what you want and making it happen. It's insanely hot and Adam has to stop himself from grinding against George, because he knows he won't be able to stop once he starts and there needs to be a lot more nakedness before _anyone_ gets off.

He starts pulling at George's collar, his cuffs, tries to find purchase, because everything suddenly feels as slippery as the robe that is being pulled down his shoulders and he needs an anchor, is almost too overwhelmed. It's stupid how much like a kid he feels at this moment and he hates that, hates not being the one in control. George is biting his neck now, carefully, just enough pressure against the delicate skin there and Adam thrusts helplessly against him in response. "Jesus fuck," he gasps.

"Understatement." George pulls back and stands beside the bed. He's undressing, but not in a hurry, his eyes intense, never leaving Adam's. "Tell me what you want." His shirt comes off, is thrown aside.

Adam closes his eyes. He will not whimper, _he will not_. "Anything," he surprises himself saying it out loud. It's one thing to give it up, it's another thing entirely to _give in_. "Anything you want." He waits until he feels the mattress dip under George's weight, waits until the other man is pressed up next to him, before opening his eyes.

George smiles at him, it's a kind smile, which is such a weird thing all by itself, because the heat in his eyes is still there and his very insistent erection is hot against Adam's thigh. He presses one hand to the side of Adam's face and rubs his thumb over Adam's lips and cheekbone. "I'm thinking I'd need at least a week to make that come true." He presses a soft kiss to Adam's mouth before turning to the bedside table and rummaging in the drawer. He gives Adam a triumphant smile when he turns back, a pair of leather handcuffs dangling from his fingers. He raises one inquisitive eyebrow and waits for Adam's reaction.

And now it's Adam's turn to smile and raise an eyebrow. This? This he knows. This he can handle.

George snorts and nods. Game on. But to Adam's surprise, George slips his own wrist into one of the leather cuffs. "Move over," he directs.

Adam scoots closer to the other side of the bed as George situates himself in the middle, looping the other cuff through the headboard and onto his other wrist.

"You'll have to tighten the laces."

Adam complies. Speedily. His breath is coming fast and his skin tingles wherever they touch as they shift and move to get comfortable.

George is spread out, practically beneath Adam, and he sucks in his stomach as Adam's gaze travels down, drinking in his fill. They both laugh. Adam spreads his hand there, waits until George has settled again.

"What," Adam's still a bit uncertain. "What do _you_ want?"

"I want to have some fun," George says with a smirk.

Adam can't help but laugh. "I like fun!" He doesn't waste time, swinging one leg over and straddling the other man. He can feel George's cock against his ass and he wants so badly to just _fuck_ , but he wants to tease a little bit too, to take his time and enjoy. He leans up and licks at where the leather cuffs meet skin. "Are these good? Not too tight?"

George clenches his fists, pulls against the headboard, testing. "No, they're fine."

"Mmmm. Good." Adam continues teasing and licking his way down George's arm, nipping at the sensitive skin of his forearms. "You taste so amazing," he says. "I wish we had a week, I'd keep you tied up for days."

George grunts. "Ah. We could do that." His voice is a bit strained.

"Actually," Adam shifts down and rocks against George's erection slowly. He takes an earlobe in his mouth and sucks. "I'm on the cusp of a 50-city tour and I've got four million fucking meetings and rehearsals and fittings and interviews to do. And somewhere," he licks at George's mouth and their teeth and tongues clash, before Adam pulls away. "Fuck. Somewhere in there I need to find studio time so my album gets out before motherfucking _Thanksgiving_." He smiles and lowers his mouth, licking at George's neck, at the throbbing pulse that is exposed as George surges up against him.

Adam lowers his voice to a husky whisper. "So while the thought of that sounds like the most fantastic thing _ever_?" He shifts again and moves further down George's torso, takes a nipple in his teeth and pulls. George groans and rolls his head to the side, chest heaving, skin gone flushed, pink with heat and desire. "It ain't gonna happen anytime soon." Adam punctuates the last word with a slap to George's hip, startling him, making his mouth drop open.

"God, you're a fucking tease," he growls.

"Uh huh." Adam rolls his hips, their erections sliding together, slick with sweat and pre-come. They both moan.

Adam pulls away and gropes blindly for the supplies he'd put on the bed earlier, his eyes never leaving George's. He licks his lips. "But I think the time for teasing is over and the time for fucking is _now_."

"Yes," George manages to gasp out. "I agree. Wholeheartedly." He spreads his legs in anticipation as Adam opens the bottle of lube.

Adam tsks. "Oh, baby, I am _so_ going there, but not tonight." He leans back and presses two fingers inside himself, making sure he's still ready to go. "Tonight you're giving me the ride."

George closes his eyes and pulls, hard, against the restraints. "God, I want to touch you." His voice is strangled, choked.

Adam rips open the condom and slides it efficiently onto George's cock, no wasted touches or movements, he wants this to last as long as possible and he's afraid it may already be too late for anything more than a quick, hard fuck. "Right now? It's not about what you want," he says as he carefully lowers himself, inch by slow inch, until his ass is resting against the tops of George's thighs. He groans. "It's about what _I_ need."

George bucks up, making Adam writhe and groan. Neither can make coherent words anymore, the only sounds they can make are guttural as Adam slowly begins to fuck himself on George's cock. That only lasts for a minute or so before he speeds up, finding the right angle and pace to keep him right on the edge of orgasm. And he can only keep that up for so long before he has to kneel down and brace his hands on the mattress. The change in angle makes George shake. "Holy! God. Adam. I'm not going to last much longer," he warns.

Adam's face is buried in George's shoulder, he can barely breathe, but he keeps relentlessly grinding up and down, mouth open as he struggles for air. He is nearly done in, but somehow finds the energy to lift one hand off the mattress so he can stroke his cock. And it only takes four, maybe five pulls before he's coming all over George's stomach and chest. He makes a keening noise as he comes, his cock jerking, his ass clenching. God, he forgot how _good_ it felt to come with a dick up your ass, to be so _full_. And George is right behind. He comes with a few hard thrusts of his hips and a wordless moan.

"God, I have the best ideas." George says as they both work to catch their breaths. "And here you were all worried about 'types'."

Adam can't stop himself from giggling. "Yeah, you got me there."

It takes them a minute or two to extricate themselves from each other and for Adam to release George from the cuffs. His wrists are red and pinched and Adam kisses them tenderly while George sighs. "Listen," he says, as they settle together. "I, uh."

Adam reaches down to the side of the bed, the wet washcloth and towel he put there while he was waiting for George earlier in the evening now handy so they don't have to get up. "Hmmm?" he asks as he carefully cleans them up. "You want me to go? I can go." But he really doesn't want to, and he's afraid his voice betrays that. He's under no illusions, this is no romantic liaison, but he does like a little bit of a cuddle after good sex.

"No." George grabs the washcloth and towel and throws them in the direction of the bathroom before leaning up and capturing Adam's mouth with his own. They kiss for a few moments, sweetly and carefully now that their passion is spent. They feel like thank yous. "Stay. If you can. My chef makes a fantastic Eggs Benedict and I really want to blow you in the morning."

"Oh," Adam is a little surprised. "Okay, I can do that."

"And I want you to send me a copy of your itinerary. Maybe we can meet up in one of those fifty cities? Because I honestly don't think I'm going to be able to wait until after."

Adam smiles and lets George wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Sure, I can do that." And if he falls asleep to visions of sneaking George into his hotel room without scandalizing _everyone_ (except for maybe Kris), who could blame him?


End file.
